Bunker Shot
by SuperKamiGuuru
Summary: Harry and Hermione have been working hard in Magical Britain, rebuilding and moving the Magical World into the new century. However, they fell that it's time to move on. Upon looking at their options, they find a place with the BAU in the FBI. This is the story of their first case. *Set in early-ish Season Six* *First Chapter is background where my story diverges from Canon*
1. Character Background Information

**HP Background:**

After the Final Battle, Harry and Hermione continued their education at Hogwarts of the final year offered to those who could not attend their final year while Ron refused to. Ron went on numerous speaking tours while the other two worked hard at Hogwarts, emphasizing his own role in the action-filled final year, before trying to join the Aurors after they graduated in 1998. He failed to meet the minimum requirements, blaming Harry and Hermione for not helping him succeed. The trio drifted apart as Harry and Hermione helped Kingsley and others to restructure the DMLE and the Ministry as a whole, bringing it closer to their Muggle counterparts.

Both Harry and Hermione continued their educations in the Muggle world. Harry went to Lancaster University for his bachelor's degree in criminal justice and to St. Andrews for a Master's of Psychology while working in the (now defunct) Auror department to bring its' investigative practices up to the modern times. Hermione went to Oxford for her law degree while helping the former DA construct a fair constitution and got her doctorates in History, Anthropology, and Sociology.

Between some former members of the DA (Potter, Granger, Lovegood, Longbottom, Bones, Abbot, MacMillian, Chang, etc…) and some unexpected aid from the former Slytherins (Malfoy, Greengrass, and Davis), they managed to pass a new constitution and structure an elected two-house Parliament to deal with make new laws and ratify old ones. Harry and Hermione also help to restructure the Law Enforcement section of the DMLE and merge it into the existing New Scotland Yard as an offshoot of Special Branch. Muggles would know it as merely a classified section of Special Branch. They also helped create, from scratch, the magical section of the Crown Prosecution Service and a Public Defenders office so that everyone could have access to a barrister during a criminal trial.

Twelve years later, Harry is a Detective Chief Inspector (DCI) in the Major Crimes Division of Special M Branch. He adopted his godson, Teddy, ten years previously when Andromeda died in a Death Eater attack aimed at Harry. Teddy's in his second year at Hogwarts, a Hufflepuff like his mother. Hermione is a Crown Prosecutor on detachment to Special M Branch. Neither are married, choosing to focus on their careers and changing the corrupt landscape of the Ministry of Magic instead of engaging in any serious romantic entanglements.

Both young Magicals have hit a wall in both their personal lives and their careers. While Harry was a young DCI at the age of thirty, he often had to fight to get into the field instead of being stuck in an office doing paperwork and inter-departmental cooperation. He spent more time filing paperwork and reviewing his detectives work than he spent in the field doing actual police work. Harry felt like the only time he got out of the office was when there was a big raid or when a there was a crime that his DCs and DIs couldn't handle. For someone who spent his childhood and adolescence constantly in the middle of everything, the monotony of paperwork was slowly killing the active man. There was even talk going around the office that Kingsley wanted to promote him to a Detective Superintendent within the next two years, which would completely shackle him to a desk. He was one of the most powerful wizards in world, surely paperwork killing him in his thirties wasn't his fate!

Hermione, on the other hand, was swamped with both paperwork and arguing cases because she was only one of four prosecutors in the Special M Branch of the Crown Prosecution Service. The new requirements for barristers required that they pass both the Muggle Bar Exam required for the Muggle CPS along with the newly created Magical Bar Exam covering the new laws created under the new Magical Constitution. She spent ninety-hour weeks in the office, where the only human contact she had outside of the courtroom was her secretary and Harry bringing her takeout. Draco Malfoy, Cho Chang, and Tracey Goldwell (formerly Davis) were her fellow prosecutors and they were all just as busy as she was.

There were only four Public Defenders, totaling the eight total people who had passed both Bar Exams. Jackson Ackinson, Icarus Diggle, Astoria Malfoy (formerly Greengrass), and Sally-Ann Perkins were the Public Defenders and they worked just as many hours as the prosecutors. Hermione had no room for advancement because there was nowhere to go, at least until the Special M Branch of the Crown Prosecution Service becomes more established and more barristers become available, which would take at least another decade. The ninety-hour weeks were slowly killing her and she needed something different.

Both of them felt that they need a change. After a dozen years in public service, both Harry and Hermione were slowly being driven insane by the requirements of their positions. They both felt that they needed to be in the field, using their talents in more active ways. Hermione particularly wanted a position where she could use her skills as an investigator and fighter instead of just her research skills. Unfortunately, they knew that they could never escape the fame they acquired in the Blood Wars and the subsequent restructuring of their government while staying in Magical Europe. The only solution was looking across the pond for positions in Law Enforcement.

Using their contacts in the ICW, Harry managed to find out about a specialty unit of the American FBI called the Behavioral Analysis Unit. The unit primarily worked with serial killers, something that Harry had some experience with as part of his duties in Major Crimes and Hermione had experience as a prosecutor. Together with Hermione, the pair spend their summer working with the ICW liaison to the FBI so that they could become part of this specialty unit. It took until mid-October, but both Harry and Hermione managed to clear their caseloads and move all active investigations on the desks of others.

With help from a number of house-elves whom they had saved after the deaths of several pure-blood Houses in the Second War, the pair moved into a brownstone in Washington D.C and Teddy was set to join them at Christmas. They had to take a number of exams and file a truly horrendous amount of paperwork which took until early November, but both Magicals were finally cleared to join the BAU as soon as the team returned from their most recent case. They were to report in on Monday morning, ready to duty.

 **Criminal Minds Background:**

 **Aaron Hotchner: Wizard**

Aaron Hotchner has always had a secret, one buried deep in his past. He was a wizard, born to No-Maj parents and his little brother Sean was also a No-Maj. No one in his unit knew, only a handful of upper-level brass in the FBI knew his secret. Aaron had attended Ilvermorny as a Wampus, learning magic until the age of seventeen. When he got out, Aaron realized that he was estranged from his family, particularly from his little brother Sean. This made him determined to stay in the non-magical world, so that he could rebuild the relationships that he lost.

Aaron had the opportunity to go into the Aurors, but he decided to get his degree from Mary Baldwin and went on to get his Juris Doctor at George Washington University in 1990. He became a prosecutor before changing over to be a profiler for the FBI in Seattle. Aaron finally came back to Quantico to take up the role of Unit Chief for the BAU. Magic never held any interest to Aaron after he joined the BAU, though he always kept his wand in his go bag just in case.

His son, Jack, began to show signs of magic several years ago, signs that he managed to hide from his wife. However, Haley died to Foyet before he could tell her about his secret and that their son was a wizard as well. Now that the brass had sent down an order for him to add two new people to his unit, two Magicals from the UK, Aaron knew that he had to find a way to tell Jack about his heritage.

He knew that European Magicals had a tendency to be… condescending to their No-Maj counterparts, as well as preferring to use magic for everything. Behavior like that would not be welcome or useful in his unit, particularly since he was the only one who knew anything about magic, to the best of his knowledge. Hopefully the Magicals in the brass knew that when they decided to assign Potter and Granger to his team. Aaron could only wait and evaluate the pair when they came into work on Monday.

 **Spencer Reid: In The Know**

Spencer Reid always had a secret, one that wasn't about him. One of his best friends was a statistical anomaly, someone who could manipulate energy at the most basic level. His friend, Marcus Bandola, said it was magic even though that was impossible. Magic was just a way of describing something unexplainable until it was possible to explain the phenomenon. Marcus had made Spencer promise to never tell anyone that he knew about his abilities. Spencer had kept that promise for almost twenty years, fearing that one of the people whom Marcus had called Oblivators would come and erase parts of his precious memory. It infuriated and terrified the young genius that they could possibly come and monkey about with something that he valued so highly. Spencer wished that he could talk to anyone

 **Penelope Garcia: Witch**

Penelope Garcia had lots of secrets. She was a former blackhat hacker named the Black Queen, acted in theater shows, and knew everything she possibly could about everyone on her team. The curvy woman was protective of those in her circle, almost to a fault, and that protection generally took the form of information gathering. Penelope had one more secret, a secret that escaped even the top brass in the FBI. She was a witch.

Her parents had been Magicals, killed in a car crash by a drunk driver. She had been homeschooled by her parents and a small community of fellow Magicals that lived around them but her passion had always been technology. There was very little opportunity for a job involving technology in the Magical world, so she went to Cal Tech for a while before dropping out after her parent's death to become a hacker in the underground. Penelope never even carried her wand any more, it was locked away in a drawer beside her bed. Now there were two new people coming into her world and she was digging deep. She had to find out if there was anything, anything at all, that could threaten her precious people when these new people showed up.

Penelope found several things in their history that made her dig deeper. Both had educational histories which stopped at age eleven, then restarted again at age eighteen, nineteen in Granger's case. Potter had mediocre grades in primary school, then when he reappeared to take his GCSE's, he scored A's and A* in seven core subjects. He scored similarly on his A-Levels before going to Lancaster University and rocketing through his degree in Criminology. Potter then joined a division of Special Branch that Penelope couldn't access, something that frustrated her, and quickly rose to be a Detective Constable while going to night school for his Master's of Psychology, finishing in only two years despite being on the job while taking classes. He continued up the ranks quickly, becoming a Detective Chief Inspector four years ago, earning several commendations along the way.

His partner was even more impressive. Granger was lauded a genius while in primary school and proved herself when she took her GCSE's and A-Levels in quick succession. She finished her undergraduate degree at Oxford in a year and a half, taking another six months to take the Bar Exam before joining a different division of Special Branch under the Crown Prosecution Service. Granger worked for CPS while finishing her triple doctorates in Anthropology, History, and Sociology at Oxford in just under three years.

Penelope hated that she could not access anything in their work files other than Potter's rank and public commendations, his conviction rate, and Granger's conviction rate. It was like their unit's network led down a black hole of nothingness. The only personal details that she could access were that Granger's parents were well-off cosmetic dentists, that neither was married, and Potter had an adopted son named Edward "Teddy" Lupin-Potter. Oh, and Potter was rich. Like, Richie Rich or Scrooge MacDuck rich. But that was all that she could find and it was driving her batty!

It took her several days to come to the realization that maybe her problem in accessing their records in the black hole of nothingness was because it was, in fact, a black hole of nothingness! They were Magicals! That explained so much! But, how could she, the Queen of Technology, access information that wasn't held in any technological network!? Penelope fumed that she couldn't find anything on them and had to wait, like everyone else, until she met them on their first day of duty.


	2. Meeting The Team

**A/N: DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or Criminal Minds and do not make any money off of this. This is my enjoyment and reviews/faves/follows are my compensation.**

 **Here's the real first chapter of this story. If you have not read the background chapter, you may want to check it out. Some things may not make sense otherwise.**

 **BTW, I am NOT using the Fantastic Beasts part of the HP Universe even though I am using certain Fantastic Beast institutions such as Ilvermorny for school backgrounds, so if my version of the American Magical Community is different from that, well it's called Fanfiction for a reason. I am using the phrases No-Maj and mundane as the standard PC phrase for Muggles and non-magic related things in America. Hopefully, my formatting will be more consistent as I continue this story and continue to fight both and Word. Enjoy!**

Bunker Shot Chapter 1: Meeting the team

Harry Potter was nervous for his first day, just like he was nervous for his first day at Hogwarts, his first time at uni, and the first time at the DMLE. He stood in the front hall of the townhouse that he bought with his best friend, Hermione Granger, pacing through the front hall. The man was neither particularly large nor especially small, standing three inches under six foot. He had a lithe build, packed with lean muscle and littered with scars, his bespoke, dark blue suit emphasizing the muscle tone. He abandoned the accompanying tie, as anything tied around his neck risked triggering some lingering PTSD left over from his years at the Dursleys. He instead chose to leave the top two buttons of his shirt open for some breathing room. Harry tugged at the cuffs of his pastel blue shirt, nervously fiddling with the cufflinks that boasted the Potter Family Crest. A pair of simple, but expensive black Oxfords completed his 'First Day' look. He felt overdressed, but Hermione forced him to wear his best outfit.

As Harry turned to continue pacing the front hall, he grimaced at the uncomfortable weight of the Walther PPQ pistol sitting on his left hip. He wasn't used to carrying a firearm regularly, only when doing breaches on high-risk targets or in similarly special situations. However, FBI regulations required him to carry his gun everywhere outside of the FBI office, so he would do so. He was glad that they had allowed him to carry his trusted Walther instead of the standard issue Glock 22 that most agents carried. Harry felt that the German Walther was a better-made gun than the generic Austrian Glock. He kept a short combat knife strapped to his leg in place of the recommended Glock 27 that many field agents carried as a backup gun.

Harry did take comfort in the slight tightness on his right wrist where a thick leather bracelet sat. It was his pride and joy, the result of better than half a decade of work and study. He crafted it with Runes to replace the standard hostler, a simple leather tube that strapped to the underside of a wizards arm. The standard hostler, in Harry's opinion, was a hazard when engaging No Maj's or while in close-quarters. All it took was a well-aimed punch or kick, not to mention the accidental hits, to snap the wand in half while still contained in the leather tube. mundane

Harry looked at his watch impatiently before looking up the stairs.

"Hermione! We need to get going or we're going to be late! Apparating isn't permitted within a half-mile of Headquarters!" He could hear his housemate walking down the stairs, her heels clicking on the hardwood stairs.

"I know, I know. It just took longer to find a comfortable position for this pistol than I thought." Harry rolled his eyes.

"And that's why I told you to pick a subcompact pistol like the Bureau recommended instead of that ridiculous revolver that you insisted on. All you had to do was ask Susan for a recommendation, she would have given you a variety of guns to choose from." Hermione came into view, a scowl on her face. She was wearing a nice cream-colored pantsuit, matching heels, and lion earrings. She had a thinner version of his wand holster on her right wrist and a large Webley .45 revolver rode on her left hip. She was thin, but well-proportioned with strong legs. Her brown hair, uncontrollable in her youth, had tamed itself into flowing waves without the bushiness that plagued her school years. Hermione stood at three inches over five feet, though she could glare directly into Harry's eyes from her place on the stairs.

"And I told you that my grandfather carried this gun into battle during the Great War and it was bloody well good enough for him." Harry rolled his eyes skyward and prayed for patience.

"Hermione, I've seen photos of your grandfather. He was six and a half feet tall and the size of a professional rugby forward. A forty-five caliber, large frame revolver would be sensible in his hands, maybe even a bit small. You, on the other hand, are five-foot three, weigh one-ten soaking wet and have small hands to boot. That Webley is going to kick you in the teeth. But if that's what you want to carry, feel free. We have to leave now if we want to even appear to be on time." Harry turned around and walked out of the front door, pausing only to grab his keys. Hermione sighed and followed him, snagging her own set of keys from their place on the hallway table.

The pair got into Hermione's new Range Rover sitting in the driveway and set off for their first day on the job. A new adventure in a new land.

* * *

Emily was sitting at her desk, leisurely completing the paperwork from their last case as she waited for her co-workers to trickle into the office. She knew that Derek would be coming in next, followed closely by Rossi and Spencer. Hotch, of course, had been in his office working since well before even she arrived. Since the death of his wife, Hotch often worked early in the morning so that he could be home in time to spend time with Jack, his son, during the evenings that the team was in town.

A pair of people, one male and one female, stepped off the elevator, attracting Emily's attention. It wasn't the fact that they were stepping off that attracted her attention, plenty of people worked on this floor. It wasn't even the fact that they were coming straight into the bullpen and she didn't know them. There were several analysts who worked in the BAU whom she hadn't met despite her years in the unit. There was something about their gaits and postures which drew her attention to the pair.

The man, dressed in an obviously tailored blue suit, had messy black hair and striking green eyes. His eyes caught everything, though the actual movements of his eyes were minimal. He wasn't tall by any means, nor particularly imposing, but his posture was that of someone who knew how to handle themselves. There were a couple of obvious scars on the exposed parts of his body, the most obvious of which was a lightning bolt scar over his right eyebrow and a small scar just under his left eye.

The man subtly maintained a protective position for the woman who was a half-step behind him, although neither appeared consciously aware of their positions. That alone spoke of a long-time partnership, one that had faced both fire and trial. The man's positioning ensured that he was the first assessed by any potential enemies, leaving his partner either safe or as an unknown quantity. Emily's eyes then flicked back to observe his partner.

The woman was stunning, thin yet curvy in all the right places. She was average height for a woman, with wavy brown hair and honey-brown eyes. The woman wore a charcoal grey pantsuit and tasteful low-heeled shoes. While her clothes were not as obviously expensive as her male counterparts, they were still well-made and of high-quality material. She had a small bag slung over one shoulder and a massive revolver in a leather holster on her hip which wasn't covered by her suit jacket. Emily recognized the distinctive frame of an old Webley, the British officer service weapon from the second World War.

The slim woman held herself like a fighter, every step balanced regardless of the thin heels she wore. Her eyes held a similar glint of intelligence as Reid, though hers were tempered with caution and wariness that the young genius still needed to fully develop. She held an air of fond exasperation with her dark-haired companion, obviously aware of his protective position and well-used to it.

Emily got the immediate impression that the pair was either married (unlikely based on the lack of rings adorning their left hands, but possible) or had been partners for such a long time that they no longer needed traditional methods of communication. She couldn't get an accurate read on their ages, but they were likely a similar age to herself or older and just did not show their ages. She was guessing that the woman was a powerful woman, likely a congresswoman or major ADA, and the man was her long-time bodyguard. The Supervisory Special Agent was surprised when the pair stopped at her desk.

"Ma'am?" She was startled to hear a crisp London accent come from the man. "Is that," he indicated Hotch's office, "the office of Agent Hotchner?" Emily nodded, but raised a hand in front of him, stopping him as he began to move towards the stairs.

"Sir? Agent Hotchner is fairly busy right now, maybe I can be of some help?" The man shook his head and moved around her hand.

"Unfortunately, we must speak with Agent Hotchner directly and we're already running late." The man reached into his jacket but halted when a voice came from behind them, causing Emily to mentally groan.

"Sir? I'm going to have to ask you to hold on. Agent Hotchner is a busy man. I'm sure that whatever you need, myself or Agent Prentiss can help you." Derek, a tall and well-built African-American man, maneuvered himself in front of the dark-haired stranger. "Trust me."

The man looked down at the large hand placed on his shoulder in a vaguely threatening manner. He looked up and Emily was surprised to see a glint of amusement in the man's vibrantly green eyes. He continued removing his hand from the inside of his jacket and produced a thin leather case, flipping it open to reveal an FBI badge. Derek and Emily both blinked at the badge, though Derek maintained his position.

"Mate, I think I'm good. We are going to have an issue if you don't let go, however." Derek quickly removed his hand from the smaller man's shoulder, looking at the badge presented to him. Emily saw the woman casually jab an elbow into her partner's ribcage as she brushed past him. The man scowled at her and rubbed his injured ribs.

"Harry, stop being a prick for your own amusement. It's less funny here. Hello, I'm Agent Hermione Granger. And you are…?" She extended her hand to shake with the other two agents.

"Uh, Agent Derek Morgan, ma'am. This is Agent Emily Prentiss."

Hermione glared down at her partner and made a motion of her head towards Morgan and Prentiss. The man, Harry, shrugged and introduced himself.

"Fine. DCI… no, that's not right any more, is it? Agent Harry Potter." Emily's eyebrows rose. He was a former DCI? At his age? What would make someone on the fast track like that move agencies, let alone change countries? "We have an appointment with Agent Hotchner, so can we go now? Someone," Potter covertly motioned towards Hermione, "took forever getting ready this morning, so we're already running late." Derek stepped aside, mutely allowing the two Brits up the stairs. Both followed the pair with their eyes until they disappeared into Hotch's office.

"Are we getting two new people?" Emily shrugged helplessly in answer to Derek's question.

* * *

Aaron Hotchner was sitting in his office, going over potential cases for the team that Garcia had passed on to him. He looked up at a knock on his office door.

"Come." Two people, a man and woman, entered his office and he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to have two new people coming in today. Worse, they were Magicals and Aaron hated working with Magicals, the few times that he had to work with them. Aaron internally grimaced but stood and extended a hand towards the pair.

"Hello, you must be Agents Potter and Granger." The man (Potter, if Aaron remembered his name correctly) took his hand, Aaron noting the calluses covering his fingers and palm. He also took note of a peculiar scar that looked like writing on the back of Potter's right hand. His companion, Granger, shook Aaron's hand next. Her hand had fewer calluses, but still had more than he expected from a European Magical.

The Unit Chief for the BAU sat behind his desk, examining his new team members with new eyes. Most European Magicals that he had met were soft-handed, a bit overweight, and held themselves superior to anyone that did not have full magical heritage. These two, so far, didn't fit that profile. Both seemed to be fit, humble, and hard-working, leaving the profiler floundering without a valid profile to work from. Hopefully he could keep the fact that he was a Magical himself out of the conversation, relying on the fact that Unit Chiefs and above were read into the Magical World. So far, Aaron had interacted with numerous Magicals over his time at the Bureau and none had suspected that he used to practice Magic. He doubted these two would be any different.

Frustratingly, even with his Top Secret security clearance, Aaron's files on both Potter and Granger's personal and professional lives in the Magical community were heavily redacted. He knew their final scores on their OWLs and NEWTs, their mundane post-secondary education records, and their general conviction rates as Auror and Prosecutor. Anything else, the British Government told him, he had to learn from Potter and Granger themselves. They were the only ones cleared to tell anyone outside of the European Magical Communities what their roles were. The one thing that irked Aaron more than almost anything else was not getting all the information he needed to make a decision before having to make the decision.

"Agents, I have to say that I am hesitant to allow you two to join my team. While we are presently short-handed, I'm not sure that Magicals would be the proper fit to fill the open gaps, even Magicals with stellar mundane qualifications such as yourselves, though I know how easily obtained mundane qualifications are for Magicals in Europe." Agent Potter's face darkened as he leaned forward, though his forward progress was stopped at a touch from Agent Granger. He leaned back, a scowl dominating his sharp features.

"Agent Hotchner, I assume you are unaware of who we are in the British Magical Community or in the recent changes that the European Magical Communities have recently gone through?" Aaron furrowed his brow at that. What changes? He had been out of the loop, so to speak, on Magical events for over twenty years but the European communities hadn't made a significant change in over two hundred years as far as he knew.

"I'm not aware of anything significant changing since I was briefed on the Magical World a number of years ago. The primary point that I'm referring to is the rampant bigotry that is characteristic of the European Magical Community. So if who you are has something to do with who you are related to, then I really don't care." Agent Potter shifted forward, his emerald eyes drilling into Aaron's dark eyes.

"Well, Agent Hotchner, the bottom line is that Magical society has caught up with the times on the other side of the pond. And we helped catch them up. Were you read in on the Blood Wars in England a little over a decade ago?" Aaron nodded. He was read in by the FBI, but he also remembered hearing about Voldemort while in school, not long after he died from some freak accident involving a child… Wait. This was _the_ Harry Potter, Britain's Golden Savior?

"Long story exceptionally short, Dark Wizard named Voldemort came back when I was a teen, tried to kill essentially everyone in Britain, I killed him a couple years later but he took most of the pure-blood powerbase with him. So we, along with others in our year group, helped to create a new constitution, and created a new form of governing. I helped combine the DMLE with New Scotland Yard as a division of Special Branch while Hermione helped to build both the Magical branch of the Crown Prosecution Office and a Public Defenders office. We both worked exceptionally hard for our qualifications so trust me, Agent Hotchner, when I tell you that your comment about our qualifications was deeply offensive." Potter continually made eye contact with Aaron the entire time he was talking, his green eyes glowing with suppressed power and indignation.

"My apologies. I jumped to conclusions based on the information that I had about the European Magical Community." Potter nodded and leaned back, content to allow Granger to continue speaking for the pair.

"Trust us, Agent, we have our own bad experiences with the Magical world. I'm a Muggleborn, or I guess you would call me a Mundane-born here in the States. Growing up in pure-blood controlled Britain, I've had my share of bigotry thrown my way. Harry has his own issues with our world, which is one of the reasons that we decided to make this move. We are both competent and have been tested and vetted by the highest levels of your agency and trained by those in the highest levels of our home country. Honestly, I believe that Harry is more valuable to you than me here. He spent the last twelve years as an active Auror in Major Crimes, the past four years as a DCI, whereas I have spent the last twelve years behind a desk as a prosecutor." Aaron felt his eyebrows go up in spite of himself. A DCI at age twenty-six was a feat by itself, to do so while also building a government and going to school made the feat even more impressive. He did feel the need to reassure Granger, however, as her own accomplishments were exceptional and valid.

"Agent Granger, I was a prosecutor myself before I decided to join the FBI and become a profiler. Your background is every bit as valuable to the FBI as Agent Potter's. My concern is that you were both involved in primarily Magical crimes. My team typically deals with serial killers of the mundane variety." Potter leaned forward again.

"And you're positive that none of the cases sitting in your 'Pending' stack are Magical serial killers that you've overlooked? It's really easy to not make the connections with Magical Crimes unless you focus on it. I've personally put away a dozen magical serial killers in the past six years alone, not including the rest of the detectives in my division. People are people, regardless of their abilities in magic. I also helped catch a couple of serials that came across my desk while working with the No Maj side of New Scotland Yard."

Aaron frowned at that. That was an angle he hadn't really considered. What if his team ran into a Magical serial killer? He certainly wasn't equipped to fight anyone with magic, even though he still secretly kept his wand in his Go Bag as a precaution. If Agent Potter was telling the truth, there could be cases that his team undertook that they couldn't solve without help. Or there were cases that they could help with that were currently being overlooked because his team didn't know what to look for?

"Alright, Agent Potter. We're going to try this on a trial basis, make sure that you two fit with the established dynamic of our team. I assume that both of you know that the Statute of Secrecy is taken exceptionally seriously by the FBI and that none of the rest of the team can know about our abilities?" Potter and Granger nodded. "Do either of you carry a gun and know how to use it? You can't be in the field with just your wands." Potter smirked.

"Agent Hotchner, I've worked with the mundane police before. We are both following FBI protocol and have our weapons on us, as well as having qualified on the range prior to coming here. We also have our wands," Potter held up his wrist and showed him a thick leather bracelet. Aaron frowned.

"You use a bracelet as a wand?" It was Potter's turn to frown.

"No, the bracelet is a wand holster. It's essentially standard issue for every Magical cop in the world." Aaron blinked. He hadn't heard of any innovations in holsters, but then again, he didn't really pay attention either. No one knew he was a wizard, so there was no reason for the FBI to keep him in the loop on specialized information such as that.

"Ok. Well, we have a meeting in just a few minutes to brief on our new case. Do you two have Go Bags?" Potter stifled a laugh. He elaborated at a raised eyebrow from Aaron, digging out a small pouch from his pants pocket. Granger glared at the obviously amused Potter before bringing out a beaded pouch from her purse.

"We've had a 'Go Bag' on us every day since we were forced on the run at sixteen. No one back home ever understood why we kept three weeks of clothes and rations on us at all times." Aaron let slip a rare smile.

"Well, three weeks might be a bit excessive but Go Bags are a normal aspect of the BAU. I would recommend a more conventional bag for appearances sake, however. Perhaps a duffle or a small suitcase?"

A knock came on his door and it opened a small amount.

"Sir?" A redhaired woman in… interesting… glasses poked her head into the office. She had a round face and her hair was pulled up into pigtails. "We're ready for you in the conference room." The woman looked to the side and did a double-take. "I'm really sorry, sir, I didn't know you were in a meeting." Aaron stood up and motioned her to open the door more.

"That's alright, Garcia. These are Agents Potter and Granger. They are joining us on a trial run for this coming case." Garcia's mouth went into an 'O' shape in understanding, though Aaron could discern a hint of suspicion in her eyes. She stepped inside the door and offered her hand to the two agents, who had stood up at the same time Aaron did.

"Hi, I'm Penelope Garcia. Tech analyst and information queen extraordinaire." Granger shook her hand first, then Potter. Garcia smiled at them, obviously a little uncomfortable with the newcomers.

"Agents, are you both going to be alright using the iPads or should I get paper copies of the files for you?" Granger and Potter shook their heads.

"Whatever the team uses is fine with us," Granger said as Potter nodded alongside her. Everyone filed out of Aaron's office and followed Garcia to the conference room where the rest of the team was waiting.

* * *

"Team, meet Agents Harry Potter and Hermione Granger," Hotch said to the team. "They are on a trial run with our unit."

Prentiss and Morgan nodded, reaching over to shake hands with both Potter and Granger. Rossi and Reid both introduced themselves quickly and the group sat, Aaron indicating for Garcia to begin the briefing. The curvy redhead clicked her remote, bringing up an image of a young blonde, blue-eyed woman on the main screen. Beside her, a second image showing a bloody sand bunker from a golf course appeared.

"Attention, golf lovers all, because this case may change your minds. In the small, but affluent town of Pinehurst, North Carolina, three bodies have popped up over the last six months. The first victim, Carla Donovan, was a prostitute who died back on May 10th. She was viciously beaten and placed on the final sand bunker of Hole Two on Course One. She was alive when she was found but died from internal bleeding en route to the hospital. The sheriff department did a short investigation but found nothing." Garcia clicked her remote again. The image of a young black woman, brown eyed and with a cascade of brown braids, appeared on the screen beside a picture of the same woman beaten, lying in white sand.

"The second victim, Taquisha Walkerton, was another prostitute killed on August 10th. Like the first victim, she was viciously beaten but this time she was killed before she was dumped on the final sand bunker of Hole Two, this time on Course Two. Here's the weird part: the ME who examined her could not find a cause of death." Morgan and Reid looked up sharply while Potter and Granger glanced at each other.

"The beating didn't kill her like the first victim," Reid asked. Garcia shook her head.

"Apparently not. The ME said that the injuries sustained by the beating would have been life-threatening, but the victim didn't lose enough blood to kill her. Now, the sheriff department did not connect the two cases or give either case very much attention due to the nature of the victims and the fact that they were found during the highest points of golf/tourist season. This changed with the third victim, one Miss Tanya Jones." Garcia once again clicked her remoted, bringing up the image of another young black woman. She had green eyes and her black hair was pulled up in a tight bun. A second image of the woman appeared, showing her lying bloody in white sand.

"Tanya was in town for a series of meetings between her pharmaceutical company and a new drug company back in October. She was staying in a high-end hotel in Pinehurst, the Holly Inn, and disappeared two days into her weeklong series of meetings. She was last seen by a colleague She was found three days later, on October 10th. Weird, right? Just like the other two victims, she was beaten bloody and dumped on the final sand bunker of Hole Two on Course Three. Just like Taquisha, the ME said that she didn't lose enough blood to die from her beating. This was when someone in the sheriff department put together the dots, specifically the correlation in dates, and realized that there was a serial killer on the loose. Unfortunately, the department found no forensics to help identify any suspects." Aaron looked up at the group sitting around the circular table.

"Were there any indications of sexual trauma on any of the victims," Rossi asked Garcia. At a shake from the redhead, Rossi looked over at Hotch. "The prolonged period between kills indicates that the unsub is in control of his urges, though the shortening time frame also indicates that he's devolving." Morgan took over from there.

"Even the shortened time frames demonstrates a sense of control. He's killed his first victim, then waited exactly three months to kill again. His third victim was then, to the day, killed two months later." Potter jumped in there.

"So it stands to reason that his next victim will be on the tenth of November. And since today is the seventh of November, this unsub is hunting for his next victim right now."

"Agreed. This is a time-sensitive case, so wheels up in thirty. Agent Potter, Agent Granger, do you two know where the airfield that we take off from is located?" Potter nodded affirmatively. "Good. Let's go, people."

The group of profilers stood and filed out of the room. Aaron had a bad feeling about how this case would turn out. Hopefully the additional experience of Granger and Potter would help the team catch this killer faster than normal instead of slowing down the regular team dynamic.

 **AN: Harry and Hermione have now met the team! Next time, the case really begins and there should be some more police procedural action coming. This is my first time writing a police procedural, so forgive me if I make some mistakes. I'll hopefully have another chapter within a couple weeks (I do have everything planned out, so it should go fairly quick) but I'm also doing job hunting at the same time so that could kick into high gear at any time. Ta for now!**


	3. Arrival On Scene

_**AN: Sorry this is coming out so much later than I had intended. I've been doing job hunting, interviews, more job hunting. Still hunting that ever-elusive teaching position. Anyway, here's the proper second chapter!**_

 **Arrival On Scene**

Harry grinned as he sat in the luxurious Gulfstream that the BAU used, stretching out on the leather couch.

"Now this is posh. My last job wouldn't have dreamed of springing for anything even close to this." Hermione said, sitting next to him with primly crossed legs.

"Harry, the UK is hardly large enough to warrant a private plane unless you had to frequent the Shetlands or the Hebrides. Even then, you would just take the bloody ferry. Besides, your department hardly paid for the coffee addiction that you instilled in your officers, let alone give you a private jet." Morgan stared from his seat across from Harry and Hermione.

"You got your entire department addicted to coffee?" Harry shrugged.

"Wasn't hard. When you all work seventy to ninety-hour weeks, tea only goes so far. I also bought exceptional coffee for my office, so my officers raided my coffee supply on a regular basis." Prentiss jumped into the conversation.

"What kind of coffee? I lived and worked in the UK for a while, so I know that it has to be something special to tear a group of Brits from their tea." Harry grinned at the other agent.

"Jamaica Blue Mountain. Amazing stuff, honestly, though it did sort of ruin me for cop coffee everywhere." Hermione nudged Harry and gave him a significant look. Harry raised his eyebrow at her but subsided at her glare. "Morgan, Prentiss, I want to apologize for being…. brusque earlier. I was out of line." Morgan and Prentiss blinked at the apology.

"Not a problem, man," Morgan replied. "We were both a little too quick to react this morning." Harry nodded to the large black man. Rossi spoke up from his seat beside Morgan.

"What happened this morning? Did I miss a good fight?" Hermione shook her head.

"Just two males butting heads, nothing serious." Prentiss laughed and laid a hand on Rossi's shoulder.

"Sorry, Rossi, no fighting. Derek didn't wait long enough for our new agents to identify themselves as BAU and the boys got a little heated. Nothing important." Rossi raised an eyebrow but subsided. The older man handed out folders to the team.

"Potter, Granger," Rossi said to the pair on the couch as he handed them manila folders. "We usually go over the fine details of the case on the plane, both independently and as a group, while en route to the crime scene. They contain all the information that we currently have on the case. If you have any theories or thoughts that you think are relevant, feel free to talk about them with the rest of the group. Everyone here has specialties and they may have insights that you don't. Or you may have insights that the rest of us lack." Harry and Hermione nodded, each flipping open their respective folders. As usual, Hermione devoured the entire folder in just a few minutes, flipping it shut as she finished. Harry took longer, studying each page and photo intently.

Harry raised an eyebrow as he read over the autopsy reports for the three dead women. He nudged Hermione and pointed to a line in two of the reports. She nods and gives him a significant look. Prentiss notices the look and turns to them.

"Did you notice something?" Harry looked up at her.

"I was just noting the CoD for the second and third victims. The ME calls them both 'undetermined' after noting that the blunt force trauma and blood loss they suffered was severe but not life-threatening. That seems… strange. Certainly, makes our jobs harder." Prentiss blinked and checked her own copy of the report. Sure enough, the ME in both the second and third victims had labelled the deaths as 'undetermined', though the Moore County Sheriff's department deemed them all homicides.

"It really isn't that unusual," Hotch said from his place a few seats away. "There are any number of reasons that a medical examiner would determine a death 'undetermined'." Harry looked at the older man.

"I agree. I've had dozens of 'undetermined' autopsy reports cross my desk back home. However, two 'undetermined' deaths by the same killer who beats his victims like this? That's just strange. Usually this level of beating indicates that a killer has rage issues which generally escalate into beating the victim to death, like the first victim. That kind of killer would usually never de-escalate to beating someone within an inch of their life and then stopping to kill them in a new way. Like I said, strange. But maybe it doesn't actually mean anything." Hotch and Morgan nodded, examining the reports with renewed thought.

"What is really confusing is the way the unsub is choosing his victims," Prentiss noted. She arranged the three photos of the women on the table between herself and Morgan. "His first victim was a white woman in her late twenties, the second a black woman in her early twenties, and the third another black woman in her mid-thirties. His victimology doesn't make any real sense. There isn't anything that indicates who he's looking for, even just a type that he prefers."

"That's a bad sign," Rossi piped in from his place behind Morgan. "It's easy to

"Unfortunately, none of the crime scenes were well-preserved and were obviously just dump sites. We're going to walk them anyway, but I don't expect us to find anything especially useful." Everyone nodded and went back to their reading. Hotch addressed everyone after a few minutes of silence.

"Morgan, you and Prentiss take Potter to look over the crime scenes when we get there. Everyone else, head straight to the Sheriff's Office to set up." Harry looked at Morgan and Prentiss, nodding at them in acknowledgment of the order. "Agent Granger, how would you prefer to be introduced? Agent or Doctor?" Hermione looked at the older man with a slight smile.

"Agent will be fine, sir. I have found that singling out my differences to law enforcement officers often causes more issues than I care to deal with." Hotch nodded as he went back to his own copy of the report.

Hermione strode through the front bullpen of the Moore County Sheriff's Office alongside her new boss and co-workers. It felt good to be back in the field again after years of being cooped up in an office for days on end. She helped Reid and Rossi set up the conference room while Hotch met with Sheriff. The young witch looked up as Hotch walked into the room, an older heavy-set man in a tan uniform trailing him.

"This is Sheriff Dawson. Sheriff, this is half of my team: SSA Rossi," Rossi shook hands with the other man, "Dr. Reid and Agent Granger." Hermione stood and shook hands with the Sheriff while Reid just nodded and smiled awkwardly at the man. "Sheriff, you mentioned that you thought you might have a theory as to how the unsub is possibly choosing his victims."

The sheriff had thick white hair which he ran a large hand through. He was a large man, heavy-set but still had visible muscle on his frame. Dawson stood several inches over six feet, towering over Hotch. "Well, Agent Hotchner, I believe that this man is just picking hookers to kill. Moore County is a pretty small place, so there ain't a lot of separation between rich folk and poor folk around here. Pinehurst is particularly small, and it can be occasionally difficult to distinguish a well-dressed hooker from a rich woman. Maybe the dump site is just something to throw us off his trail." Hotch's face could have been carved from stone for all the emotion that he gave off. Hermione reminded herself to never play poker with the Section Chief.

"Sheriff, thank you for your theory. We'll take that into account as we build our profile." The sheriff nodded and left the room, leaving the four agents to discuss the case. Rossi shrugged.

"The sheriff isn't wrong. It could be that this last kill was outside of his usual demographic because he made a mistake." Hermione piped up from her place at the table.

"But wouldn't that cause him to lash out sooner? If he made a mistake, his compulsion should have forced him to kill again as soon as he feasibly could." Rossi shook his head.

"Not necessarily. You're assuming that the unsub is actively following the investigation and realized that his third victim wasn't a hooker." Hermione frowned.

"Everything that we have seen in this unsub says that they are sophisticated and organized. The lack of forensic evidence, the countermeasures he's taken, the care he takes to not kill his victims while inflicting their wounds. Everything adds to someone who would keep close tabs on the investigation, so they can maintain their sense of superiority while staying ahead of law enforcement." Hotch nodded.

"True. And he held the women for three days. He would have known she wasn't his normal victim quickly. Tanya Jones was fit, well-nourished and well-put-together. If anything, she would have tried to bribe him into letting her go by offering money in return. A prostitute wouldn't have had that option. Reid." The slender man looked up at the sound of his name. "Can you see any sort of geographic commonalities that we can use to narrow the profiles?"

Reid stood up and stepped to the map that he and Hermione had pinned to the case board, looking at the available data they had marked there. He picked up a marker and made a circle on the map.

"From the data available, I can say that his hunting ground is likely inside this ten-square-mile area." Rossi grimaced.

"Ten square miles? That's a lot of ground to cover, kid." Reid shrugged, still staring at the board.

"We really only have a vague idea of where he kidnapped his victims. Presently, the only definite points which I can use to make a geographical profile are his dump sites." Rossi, Hermione, and Hotch nodded somberly while they stared at the map.

"I'm telling you, I can drive in America," Harry complained as he got out of the backseat of the black Suburban. The slim man fell into an easy walk with his co-workers, standing to their left. "I've driven in multiple countries that use both the left and right sides of the road." Prentiss laughed as they walked through a large parking lot.

"Don't worry, Potter, it isn't anything against you. Morgan just has this urge to always be the driver." Morgan rolled his eyes as he slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses.

"It's not all the time, Prentiss."

"Name one time you didn't drive when you were in the car and conscious. Just once." Morgan cocked his head to the side, thinking. His head fell slightly but said nothing while Prentiss smirked at him.

"Well, good to know that it isn't something against my own driving," Harry said, sliding on his own sunglasses while tucking his regular glasses into his inside jacket pocket. "So, what are we hear to do, precisely? I thought that the Sheriff Department had already checked over the area where she was found." The trio came to a large white building, pausing briefly as Harry held open the door for Prentiss and Morgan.

"They did, but it's important that we take a look for ourselves," Morgan replied. "We may see something important to the profile that isn't included in the report because the responding officers wouldn't have thought about it." Harry nodded as they continued to a counter manned by a young man in a bright white polo and shorts.

"Excuse me," Prentiss said to the young man, "we need a cart." The young man looked up at the trio and raised an eyebrow as he ran his eyes over them.

"I'm sorry, we have a very strict dress code here. I'm afraid you can't play in a suit, even if you could afford to pay our green fees." Prentiss' face dropped from cheerful to stony in an instant. Before she could open her mouth, Harry stepped forward as pulled out his badge.

"Lad, we're with the FBI. Cart, now." The man paled and fumbled with a cart key on the desk. He finally got a hold of it and nearly threw it at Harry. The trio walked outside and climbed into a cart, Harry behind the wheel. They rode to the Hole Two, Prentiss and Morgan holding on to their handles for dear life. They stumbled out of the cart as soon as Harry skidded to a halt.

"Never. Again." Prentiss glared at Harry's grin as she bent over the side of the cart, bracing herself with her hands on the hood. "You are never driving anything with me inside. Ever."

"Prentiss, it wasn't that bad. I always kept all four wheels on the ground and I didn't even keep the accelerator pressed down all the way. At least, not the entire time." Morgan laid down on the grass, holding a large hand over his heart.

"Potter, I used to think that Rossi drove like a maniac. You're insane. I'm with Prentiss, man, you are banned from driving." Harry laughed as he walked up to the sand bunker nearest the green.

"Just wait until we get something with power. I used to do racing on the side when I was younger." The slim man looked back and forth, peering into the small wooded areas near the green and the bunker. "Does there seem to be something odd about this place as a dump site?" Morgan groaned and stood up while Prentiss straightened to step next to Harry. They looked in the same directions as their colleague, frowning.

"Yeah," Morgan said. "This is totally exposed. To bring a body here, you'd need your own cart or be very strong to drag them all the way out here. If he came from the parking lot, which is the only place that would make sense if he had transported the body via car, he would have been exposed for dozens of yards coming out of the wooded area in Hole One. It's also too far to come from the road." Harry stepped into the bunker, sliding down the edge to the bottom.

"Hey, do either of you have a copy of the picture showing the body's original positioning?" Prentiss pulled a folded copy of the photo out of her jacket and passed it down to the English man. Harry examined it and the bunker. "The unsub just tossed her body down into the sand trap here. Look at the photo." He walked out of the shallow end of the bunker and around to where Morgan and Prentiss were standing. "The body is covered in sand, like he placed her on the ground up here and just pushed her down the slope. There're no other footprints in the sand other than the deputy who did the first pass by the body. The unsub doesn't give a damn about his victims after he's done with them." The other two agents nodded and headed back to the cart. Harry took one last look before jogging after them with a grin. They had forgotten that he still had the keys.

The three FBI agents stepped into the conference room set aside for their team several hours later, each heading for an available chair. They were each handed a Styrofoam container of Chinese food. Morgan went first as Prentiss and Harry dug into their food.

"Firstly, we decided that Potter can never drive. Ever. For anything." Hermione laughed as she passed a packet of soy sauce to Prentiss. In regard to the case, we think that this unsub is exceptionally bold based on the location that he chose to dump the bodies. And it's almost definitely a male. A female wouldn't have the upper body strength to drag the bodies all the way to the end of the second hole of each course. He also only cares about the victims while they're alive. Potter noticed that, while the unsub took great pains to come to specific places on the courses, he just tossed the bodies into the bunkers once he got there." Prentiss jumped in there.

"The unsub definitely had to come in from the parking lots. Morgan carried Harry through the woods from the road to the first course and barely made it." Harry snorted into his kung-pao chicken while Prentiss grinned at the annoyed look on Morgan's face. "He also has a definite reason for dumping the bodies on the second hole of each course. We aren't sure what that reason is yet, but it definitely has some significance to him. That'd be the only reason for him to take that much risk." Harry stepped in at that, allowing Prentiss to go back to her food.

"We checked the security cameras at the parking lot of Course Three. Surprisingly enough, they keep their footage stored on a secondary server for a month and a half, so we could access the night that Tanya Jones was dumped. Mysteriously, the cameras died for an hour that night. Only an hour and only the cameras observing the parking hot, Hole One, and Hole Two. One of the attendants at Course One did report that a cart went missing the same night as the first murder dump, but none of the management actually noticed because of the body and all that faff." He took a quick bite of food before continuing. "So, we can assume that the unsub has a golf cart and a way of getting it to and from the courses. He drives a truck or has a car capable of towing a small trailer." Rossi frowned.

"That doesn't narrow down the possibilities, kid. Reid, how many pickups are in the county?" The young genius looked at the ceiling thoughtfully.

"With a population just over 88 thousand and the pickup truck being one of the most popular trucks in the Southeastern United States…. I would estimate that there are around twenty thousand pickups in Moore County." Harry winced.

"I'm aware that it doesn't narrow it down much. But it does give us something to look for. His vehicle would be older but not vintage. It wouldn't be the nicest looking thing, but not so damaged that it would attract attention." Everyone at the table nodded in agreement. It was a valid addition to the profile. Morgan piped up one final time.

"We also think that the unsub is well-educated and able to blend in with the well-off crowd of golfers at the courses. He would be at home in the area, even if he doesn't necessarily live there." Clattering footfalls and shouting filtered into the room. Everyone looked up at the large window-walls that made up their conference room. Hotch stood up with a frown and opened the door, calling to a deputy.

"Deputy, what's happening?" The young man was wild-eyed and panicked.

"We just got a report, sir. Another woman has gone missing. The Sheriff ordered an all-hands search for her across the county." With that, the young deputy darted away. Hotch turned back to his team.

"You heard the deputy. Let's go help search." The entire team stood, nodding. No one was getting a good sleep that night.

 _ **AN: Sorry for the cliffhanger. Well, not really. I find it fun. Hopefully I'll have another chapter done in another couple of weeks. As always, please leave a review and let me know how I'm doing! The only way for me to grow as a writer is to get feedback from my readers! Thank you for sticking with me this far!**_


	4. Fixed Profile Delivered!

**AN: I hope this fixes the problem! My Microsoft Office expired, so I'm using a different WP app. Maybe that's the problem.**

 **AN: This came out a lot faster than I thought it would! Turns out, a hurricane coming through really limits how much stuff I can do outside. So writing was the new order of the week!**

 **BTW, I wanted to respond to a reviewer who mentioned something after the first 'real' chapter that I forgot to discuss in my last chapter. Merlin 2001 mentioned that British cops don't regularly carry guns. While this is true, there are specially trained Authorized Firearms Officers that carry weapons regularly. With the British magical population (and subsequent police force) being so small, I figure that the regular police would double as Authorized Firearms Officers as well. That's my take, anyway, and Harry has to carry a gun with the FBI anyway. Either way, on to the story!**

 **The Profile Delivered!**

A man stood in the shadows of an alley as police vehicles flew past, their lights screaming shrilly into the night air. He calmly opened the lid of the dumpster that he was standing next to and heaved a full trash bag into it. A smirk ghosted across his face, missed by everyone.

'These stupid cops. They'll never find me.' A chuckle escaped his lips as he turned around and walked out of the alley. 'No one will ever find me.'

'THUD'. Hermione jumped at the loud sound coming from beside her, glaring at the cause.

"Harry, stop it. All that's going to do is break your hand again." Harry rolled his eyes but complied with the request to stop beating the table. He and Hermione were alone in the conference room of the Sheriff's department. The team had spent most of the night searching for the missing woman with the Moore County Sheriff Department. The two British magicals were the first ones back from the hotel.

"Sorry, 'Mione, but it's frustrating the bloody hell out of me. We know how he's doing the killing, we just can't tell anyone else on the team. But that's the only thing that makes any bloody sense here." Hermione leaned back in her chair, regarding her dark-haired friend.

"Alright, let's walk through what we know." Harry nodded and cleared a section of the table. The pair spread out the case files on the cleared section.

"Fact: He's killed three women and kidnapped a fourth over the past six months. Fact: He's killed two of the three women using a Killing Curse. Fact: He's going to extreme lengths to dump the bodies in a public place where they would be found quickly. Fact: He has left little to no evidence for mundane police and very little evidence of magic." Hermione hummed thoughtfully.

"Why women in particular? We know it isn't sexual, none of the women showed any signs of sexual assault." Harry started pacing along the edge of the table.

"Unknown. He is obviously antagonistic against women, as evidenced by the sheer amount of violence committed against the victims. And it's worth it to note that the beating was done by hand, not with a spell." Hermione nodded, examining the autopsy photos. "But here is where we run into the first major inconsistency. Why beat them like this? If he's a wizard, there are dozens of better ways to inflict torture than physical beatings. But this unsub took the time to beat them with a physical rod and then spelled them clean to take away forensic evidence." Hermione frowned at that.

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Harry pulled out the autopsy reports and laid them side-by-side in front of the brunette.

"Because the bodies were too clean. Except for the bunker sand, there was literally zero debris on them. No blood, fluids, not even their own sweat. You've been tortured and seen others who have been tortured. No one lasts for days being beaten without at least sweating or soiling themselves." Hermione stared at the reports but nodded. She looked up sharply.

"Is there any way for us to check magical signatures on the bodies?" Her face fell at a shake of Harry's head.

"Not after so long. The only way we'd be able to do that is if we found a fresh vic. Magical signatures degrade quickly except in extreme cases. We might find a fragment of a signature from the Killing Curse but even that's not guaranteed after a couple weeks in the ground. That's not even taking into account the possibility that one of the deputies here or an EMT is magical, which would interact with the signature and muddle it up."

"Damn. Thought that might work. I remember one of the journal articles you wrote for _Magical Forensics_ talking about using magical signatures to identify killers but I couldn't remember the exact details." Harry chuckled as he stared at the assorted material.

"Don't worry about it. I'm kind of surprised that you even read that article. _Magical Forensics_ wasn't exactly the top of your reading list back home. Besides, even if we had a signature, it wouldn't do any good without something to compare it to." The pair of magicals looked up as the door to the conference room swung open, admitting the other five members of the team. The team paused, looking at the pair with confused expressions.

"Potter, Granger," asked Hotch, "when did you two get here?" Hermione shrugged.

"Around an hour ago, I reckon. Why?" Prentiss moved to an open chair across from Hermione.

"We weren't sure where you two were. The desk said you both left early but none of the SUVs were missing." Harry snorted.

"Aye, because Morgan won't let me near a set of keys after yesterday afternoon. We called a taxi to take us to the station this morning. Reckoned that we'd let you lot sleep a bit more." Hotch frowned at them.

"You don't have to do that. We work as a team. You could have just waited." Harry shrugged.

"Neither of us are used to sleeping more than about four hours a night. Too many years of juggling too many hats, I figure. Oh, that reminds me." Harry dug out a notebook from underneath the spread-out files. "We think that the unsub has to be a native of the area, probably working somewhere in the public." Rossi perked up at that.

"Why?"

"Several reasons. First, his killing pattern. Even though the first and second kills happened during the high tourist season, the last kill and this newest disappearance are definitely outside of the seasonal period. Secondly, his knowledge of the area. This guy knew the courses better than someone who comes in a couple times a year to golf. He knew where the cameras were and figured out some way of killing them efficiently without leaving any evidence. That's long-term planning that would require him to be around often without arousing any suspicion." Hermione picked up from there.

"Third, the varied socioeconomic status of his victims. He would have met them somewhere that it wouldn't have been unusual to see both rich and poor women at the same time. That eliminates the unsub having a job at one of the courses, such as a groundskeeper, as well as eliminating the Sheriff's officers." Hotch spoke up at that point.

"Don't be too quick to eliminate the officers. The unsub has a lot of knowledge of eliminating his tracks, which could indicate an officer or former officer." Hermione nodded.

"That's true. However, while that could explain his interactions with Carla Donovan and Taquisha Walkerton, it doesn't explain the interaction with Tanya Jones or the new victim, Alice McDonald. Jones and McDonald were both visitors who would have had no interaction with police." Morgan leaned forward at this point.

"They could have been stopped for speeding or an imagined offense by an officer, taken that way." Spencer joined the conversation.

"But how would they have been targeted by an officer? Besides the fact that an officer would have known that the FBI are here. It would be illogical to abduct another woman while knowing that the FBI are actively investigating." Hotch slowly nodded.

"Alright. We eliminate the officers, tentatively. What does that leave us?" Harry flipped his notebook to another page.

"I reckon he has to be between 25 and 40, average sized. He's young enough to haul around bodies and beat the women for days, but old enough to not be complete impulsive. He's average sized because he doesn't raise alarms or stick out in anyone's mind. A large person automatically puts people on guard and a smaller person stands out." Reid nodded.

"Height is one of the most pervasive influences on how people perceive others. Taller people are often considered to be more attractive and better overall, often because there is an innate feeling that taller is better. They stand out because our instincts recognize taller people as either a threat or a protector. Smaller people, on the other hand, are less threatening. However, men who are smaller tend to act in ways to stand out or in aggressive manners, often referred to as a Napoleon Complex." Harry pointed to Reid.

"What he said." Hermione piped back in.

"Is there a way that we can verify what the victims were doing before they were kidnapped? Some way of tracking them?" Harry perked up, looking hopefully at Hotch.

"Back in the UK, we could use the local CCTV cameras to track their movements. Can we access them here?" His face fell at the look on Hotch's face.

"Unfortunately," Hotch answered, "a small county like Moore doesn't have CCTV cameras. The US doesn't require their installation and only a few states have moved to installing large numbers of them." Morgan perked up.

"But maybe there is a way of tracking them anyway!" He slipped his phone from his belt and selected a contact, placing the phone on speaker while setting on the table. A female voice filtered through the smart phone.

"Your beautiful goddess awaits, speak and be recognized." Harry and Hermione raised simultaneous eyebrows at that. Morgan grinned.

"Baby girl, we got a question for you. We need to track the victims on the days that they disappeared, including the latest victim. Is there a way we can do that using their phones?"

"Oh, honey. That shouldn't even be a question. Of course, I can track their phones. As long as they had phones that support that sort of feature…"

"Garcia, I've sent you the numbers for the four phones. See what you can find out," Hotch ordered.

"Yes, sir." Harry leaned forward suddenly.

"Can you remotely turn on Alice McDonald's phone?" He looked up at the curious looks around the table. "What? It's worth asking the question, innit? If she can't, we're no worse off than before. If she can, we can get the GPS information off it and hope that the unsub took the phone when he took her." Looks of understanding dawned across everyone else faces. The voice of a confused Garcia came back over the line.

"Who's asking?" Harry looked back at the phone.

"Agent Harry Potter. I'm new to the team."

"Ah. Ok. Umm, I can't really turn on someone's phone like that. That's not how phones work. Besides, even if I could, I would need a FISA warrant before I can even begin to do something like that." Harry sat back in his chair, visibly disappointed. "However, I might be able to turn on her microphone!" The entire room sat up straighter and their eyes locked on the small phone in the center of the table.

"Garcia," Hotch said, an undercurrent of controlled excitement in his voice. "Explain. You said you couldn't turn on someone's phone."

Penelope Garcia stared fixedly at her various screens, typing furiously. She was mumbling to herself as she flicked her eyes between the numerous screens that dominated her workspace.

"Mister Mysterious British Man, you might be a genius." A snicker came over the phone line but not a snicker that Penelope recognized. "I can't turn on someone's phone if it's been turned off, that's a physical impossibility unless you install malware into the rootkit of the phone's operating system. To do that, I would need physical access to the phone itself or for the owner to open an app with the malware. However, smart phones function using two computers inside them. The first one runs the OS, the screen, things that you can see. However, the second computer system is called a 'baseband' system and that is the part which communicates with the cell towers and functions as an actual phone. The baseband system controls the microphones in the phone and I should be able to get into that once I know the model of her phone. Which I now know thanks to her social media pages."

"Baby girl," Derek's smooth voice said over the phone, "you are amazing." Penelope smiled.

"Of course, honey. Sir, I'll send you a list of GPS locations from the days that the three victims disappeared. Once that's compiled, I can write a program to alert me if someone begins talking in range of Alice McDonald's phone."

"Do that," Hotch said. "Good work, Garcia." Penelope's smile widened as she hit the disconnect button on her desk phone.

The team leaned back into their chairs and regarded one another.

"Are we ready to give a profile?" Hotch said, sweeping his eyes across his team. Morgan looked around the table and nodded. "Then it's time to gather the department."

The full force of the Moore County Sheriffs Department sat, lounged, or stood where they could in the cramped bullpen. Harry flicked his emerald eyes across the faces of the deputies which were arrayed in front of him.

"I'm sort of hoping none of these men run into our suspect," the dark-haired man whispered to his closest friend. "Whoever the unsub is, he's a fairly powerful and subtle wizard." Hermione nodded her head slightly in agreement.

"Definitely a mundane-born or half-blood. Most purebloods wouldn't be able to blend in like this. I verified at the morgue last night, the last victim had no strange objects or sticks found with their body. Definitely mundane. A pureblood wouldn't have 'dirtied' their hands with beating a mundane victim physically without leaving some sort of mark. They would want to inspire terror, not confusion." Harry snorted.

"Purebloods also aren't the most restrained individuals, in my personal experience. They wouldn't have waited three months between the first victims when it didn't create a major ruckus." Hotch cleared his throat and glanced at the whispering pair. Harry nodded and stepped slightly away from his brunette partner, directing his eyes to the room once again.

"We are ready to give you a preliminary profile based on the factors that we have concluded. Usually, this would take a few more days and our profile is going to be very broad because of the time crunch. Based on the other three victims, we only have a couple days before the unsub kills Alice McDonald and dumps her body." Morgan stepped in.

"The unsub is a white male between the age of twenty-five to forty. He'll be average build, average height, completely unremarkable in every way. This is both his weapon and his greatest hatred." One of the deputies snorted.

"So we're looking for an average person? How is that helpful?" Reid stepped in.

"It's not just an average person. This unsub will be the definition of average in almost every way. So we can count out anyone above five-ten and under five-seven. Statistically, around sixty-eight percent of American men fall into this category. While that's a large number, it's still eliminating about a third of the potential suspects." Rossi picked up the briefing.

"The unsub is smart, exceptionally so. He'll be vaguely memorable to women, but he won't stick out. He isn't the 'creepy' stereotype, just the opposite. This unsub managed to isolate and lure away four women of varying descriptions and socioeconomic statuses, so he's charming and nonthreatening." Harry stepped up from there.

"We also believe that the unsub works in some sort of customer-facing job. That would seem to be the best explanation for how he found his victims regardless of their economic statuses. We're going to be concentrating on boutiques and consignment stores, places that are popular spots for women of all ages and statuses." The Sheriff stepped forward to address the room.

"Alright. Meet with your sergeants to find out your patrol locations." The BAU team stepped away from the Sheriff, moving back to the conference room they had taken over. Morgan placed his phone on the table.

"Baby girl, you're on speaker."

"Alright, so I did some digging into the GPS histories on the previous victims phones. Luckily, all three women were majorly into the location check-in app FourSquare. These women checked in every single place they went from breakfast to bed." Hotch looked at the phone.

"What about the newest victim?"

"Unfortunately, she was not into FourSquare. I can track her movements but because coverage is relatively sparse in the Pinehurst area, I'm not having a lot of luck with getting precise locations for her last movements."

"What were the common locations, Garcia," Hotch asked. The team heard furious typing over the handset.

"Only three locations were common to all three previous women. And two of the three locations coincide with GPS locations I pulled from Alice McDonald's phone. They all visited a place called the Bargain Barn and a shop called Cris & Florrie's Boutique in Southern Pines, the next town over." Morgan grinned at the phone.

"Great job, baby girl. Send us the addresses."

"Already on your phones, Chocolate Thunder." Morgan's grin widened.

"You're the best, baby girl. Later." Hotch looked at his team.

"Morgan, take Prentiss and Potter with you to the Bargain Barn. Rossi, Granger, Reid and myself will go to the Boutique. I'll let the Sheriff know about Garcia's discovery on the way out. We don't have a lot of time left, people, so be thorough and be fast." Everyone nodded and began moving towards the doors.

Hermione and Harry exchanged looks as they exited the the pair separated, each had to ensure that the Statute was upheld while taking down this magical unsub. Hotch was a wizard, but he hadn't seen magical combat like the two British ex-pats. This could get dangerous very quickly.

 **AN: I know that this chapter was a lot of exposition and dialogue. I wanted to get the profile delivered and show Harry and Hermione being more than just 'magic-users'. In my canon, they are just as qualified to be profilers as anyone else on the team. They just have an additional knowledge set that the others don't.**

 **I hope that you enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a review, it really does help me bring these out faster!**


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